


Defensive Maneuvers

by garbage_dono



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: "5 times they did and 1 time they didn't" trope, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Black Paladin Lotor, Cunnilingus, Embarrassment, Established Relationship, F/M, Oral Sex, References to Knotting, Sexual Frustration, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, good parents Honerva and Zarkon, interruptions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 07:34:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18890065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garbage_dono/pseuds/garbage_dono
Summary: Five times Lotor and Allura are interrupted during sex, and one time they're not.





	Defensive Maneuvers

**Author's Note:**

> I lost my drive to write for the last few months. Life happened. It's still happening. But tonight the lotura discord peeps planted this idea in my brain and I sat down and wrote a good amount for the first time in a while. So thank you, lotura fam. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> This trope has been done and re-done and re-re-done a thousand times in a thousand ways but I _don't care I love it so damn much_.

1.

After a long day of research, Lotor bends Allura over the alchemy bench. Books and supplies are pushed to the side, Allura’s underwear is hanging off her ankle, and Lotor drives divots into the work surface with his claws as he pants in her ear. It isn’t dignified or proper or respectable, but _ancients,_ it’s everything they could possibly need and more.

“Harder,” she insists, and he nips at her earlobe.

“As my queen commands.”

He does precisely as she asks. Harder, until the work bench shakes and squeaks, until books are toppling off the edge of it onto the floor, until she’s moaning and squirming and _coming-_

“-just like the old days, sneaking around after everyone has already retired for the evening. Aren’t you _interested?_ ”

“Of course, darling, but I-“

Two more voices fade into nothing, cutting off until there’s only silence.

Well, aside from Allura trying desperately to catch her breath as she shakes off the last few aftershocks of her ill-timed orgasm.

For a sold half a dobash, they stare at each other. Lotor and Allura. Honerva and Zarkon. Like a twisted parody of a royal family portrait. Lotor silently both thanks and curses the ancients that the work bench is mostly covering their dignity. Well, what’s left of it. Though her underwear have long since fallen off of her ankle and are on full display on the floor beside them.

Zarkon’s eyes wander to them. His scales go from dusky violet to deep crimson.

“We should go,” is all he manages to say before he and Honerva make a hasty retreat, and Lotor wonders if there’s anything in this lab he can swallow that will make him dissolve into the floor.

* * *

Outside, Zarkon lets his head fall against the wall with a dull metallic thump. “Just like the old days indeed.”

Honerva barely makes it out into the hall before she bursts into an uncontrollable – and slightly hysterical – fit of laughter.

* * *

2.

Behind the back shelf in the archive room, Allura presses Lotor against the far wall and sinks to her knees. She smirks up at him as she reaches for the belt of his tunic and gets it open. A breath rattles its way out of him.

“Allura, are you-“

“Shhh,” she tells him as she reaches through the fabric and gets a hand on him. “Let me take care of you.”

He’s already hard and partially unsheathed, slick against her palm as she runs her thumb across his tip. His head knocks back against the wall. “What did I do in all the years I’ve lived to deserve a woman like you, Allur _aaaahh…_ ”

Those are the last words out of him for a while. The last words, but not the last sounds. For a few blissful dobashes she draws all manner of other things from him – rattling moans and contented sighs and deep growls as his fingers stroke across her scalp. Allura smiles even as her knees start to smart on the cold, hard floor. She can tend to them later. Now, she tends to _him._

She loves every moment of it. The taste, the smell, the feeling of him twitching against her tongue as she pulls him deeper. His knot throbs against her fingers when she strokes him, squeezes him. His fingers curl against the nape of her neck.

Footsteps shuffle down the corridor. A cheerful whistling tune echoes through the room.

Allura snaps to her feet just as Coran rounds the corner. She pretends to study the dusty old shelf while planting herself strategically in front of Lotor. “C-Coran!” she chimes, her voice too rough and too high. She clears her throat. “What are…you doing here?”

Behind her, Lotor has given up on his belt and is trying to right his tunic to cover his erection. She takes a step back, closer to him, only to feel it poke against the back of her thigh. A groan dies in his throat.

Coran eyes them both, one brow rising as he lazily crosses his arms. “The only thing anyone does in the archives – looking for an old tome. But the name seems to have escaped me…”

 _The only thing_ indeed. She lets him go right on thinking that.

He’s twirling his mustache between his fingers, brow pinched in thought. “I thought for sure it was back here somewhere, tucked between the _Encyclopedia Galactica_ and _Old Kings of Older Altea._ Oh, but what was it called…it’s on the tip of my old tongue! Lotor my boy, maybe you know.”

Lotor makes…a noise. Somewhere between acknowledgment and deep, aching regret.

“First book to characterize the weblum’s mating ritual. It was such a groundbreaking piece of work too!” He taps a finger against his temple. “What was it…what _was_ it?”

Allura casts a desperate, apologetic look over her shoulder at him. Her face blazes so hot she worries about all these old, dried out books being so close to eye level.

Finally, Coran snaps his fingers. “ _Great Beasts of the Deep Doranic Sector!_ That’s the one! Oh, and right there by your head too. What luck!” He reaches for it, but Lotor is faster. So quick that Allura barely sees him move, he grabs the thick, dusty tome off of the shelf and hands it to Coran.

“Happy to help,” he says, with a smile more pained than Allura has ever seen before.

After a quick nod and a smile, Coran spins around and makes his way back down the hall, his whistling slowly fading into the distance. It’s not until the doors slide open and closed against that Allura lets her shoulders slump. She turns to Lotor again and collapses against his chest.

“Ancients,” she breathes. “I’m so sorry…”

“There’s nothing you need to apologize for,” he sighs. His voice is tinged with disappointment, embarrassment, a hint of wistfulness as she can only imagine he’s wishing he could throw himself out of the airlock.

She peeks up at him from under her messy bangs and catches his eye. “Is there…any chance you’d still like me to finish?”

“ _Yes._ ” The word practically punches its way out of him. He reels it back just a moment later. “Maybe…back in our chambers.”

She thinks that’s not a bad idea at all.

They leave his belt behind.

* * *

Coran rubs his chin as he thumbs through the pages of the book. “I do think I got my old Altean field guides mixed up,” he sighs. “It was _Great Beasts of the Cthulic Sector,_ not _Doranic._ Curse this old memory of mine.”

Dayak stares at him over the edge of her cup, steam rising off of her tea as she studies the old pages. “What in the void’s name do you need that old thing for?”

“Just a bit of light reading. Keeps the mind sharp, eh?”

Her eyes narrow.

“Alright, I left a hundred GAC between the pages a few deca-phoebs ago. Nobody ever touches these old things.” He slams the book closed and leans back in his chair. “Ah, well…I’ll have to wait until Allura and Lotor finish up in the archives. Seems I interrupted a bit of _canoodling_ earlier…Young love, hm?”

Dayak just huffs and sips her tea.

* * *

3.

A sparring match turns into a wrestling match, which quickly turns into little more than a messy, sweaty round of desperate kisses and clumsy wandering hands on the training ring floor. Lotor’s ponytail has long since come undone, and Allura’s training outfit is stretched and pushed aside until he can get a hand down the front of her pants.

She grinds up against him, her own hands clawing at his back, pulling up his shirt to get at the sweat-slick skin underneath. He sucks on the side of her neck, humming against her pulse point. Nipping at her jaw.

“Seems I’ve bested you in combat today,” he chuckles.

Allura huffs, but the edge of it is blunted by a sighing moan. “ _Bested_ me…please. I had you backed into a corner before…you…started doing… _that…_ ”

His fingers slip inside of her, curling in just the right way to make her bite her lip. She’ll take a loss if it means he’ll keep going.

“ _Lotor._ ”

Ancients take her now, not _again-_

Lotor freezes above her, not moving a single inch as both of their heads turn toward the door. And there she is, standing in the doorway with disapproval etched into her brow and her riding crop clutched in one tight fist.

She closes her eyes. “ _Please_ tell me I’m imagining your governess standing in the doorway.”

Lotor doesn’t answer. His hand slides out of her pants so quickly that the elastic snaps against her belly. The sound is deafening.

Dayak’s eyes narrow as she stares down her nose at them, tangled in a heap of sweaty limbs on the floor in the middle of the training ring. “I’d hoped I wouldn’t need to oversee your training, but it seems that you could still need assistance staying _on task._ ”

“I assure you, Dayak…I’m perfectly capable of-“

“ _Palen bol!_ ” she insists. “On your feet. Come now.”

Why, on _why,_ did she have to choose those words?

Lotor drags himself up and offers her a hand, which she takes if only because it’s the only thing keeping her from curling into a ball and letting time and entropy turn her into space dust.

* * *

Dayak stops behind Coran in the hall and drops a 100 GAC note into his hands. He stares at it as she brushes past.

“It was in _King Groggery’s Tales,_ ” she says, not looking back. “Your memory needs a bit more sharpening, it seems.”

“Old Groggery strikes again,” he sighs. As he looks up to thank her, he finds her staring at him with a strange little smirk tugging at her lips.

Before he can ask about it, she simply says, “Young love _is_ quite the funny thing, isn’t it?”

She disappears around the corner before Coran can say another word. He tucks the money is his pocket and continues on his way.

* * *

4.

The custodial closet isn’t the most dignified place to take care of something like this, but it’s convenient at the very least. And Lotor can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen someone come in or out of it, so there’s a good chance they’ll manage to go uninterrupted. It almost makes up for the fact that it smells like mildew and concentrated cleaning solution. Almost.

He buries his nose in Allura’s hair and breathes in that scent instead.

He revels in her gasp as he kisses down her neck, purrs at the feeling of her hands fisting his hair as he drags his mouth down over her breasts and stomach. As he sinks to his knees.

He doesn’t think of the state of the floor. His clothes can be cleaned. Burned if necessary. He turns and presses a kiss to Allura’s calf as he plants her legs on his shoulders and pushes up under her skirt.

She reaches out and grabs a nearby shelf to steady herself. “I’ve got you,” he says, voice muffled against her thigh.

“Of all the places-“ She squeaks as his nose nudges up against her underwear. He moves them aside with one quick stroke. “-to decide you want a taste of me-“

“I _always_ want a taste of you,” he growls, and he drags his tongue across her folds for good measure. “Always. Everywhere.”

“Even in a supply closet?” Her words wobble from a breathless little laugh.

“Even in a supply closet.”

To make his point, he dives in without a second thought. Opens his mouth against her and lets the taste of her flood his tongue. He groans. She gasps.

Light cuts through the dark.

For a moment, Lotor wonders what fresh hell he’s living in where they’re doomed to have their dignity stripped from them one agonizing piece at a time. He wonders who’s opened the door to find them – Allura’s legs spread with her back against the wall and him on his knees with his head buried under her skirts.

He squares his shoulders as much as he can with Allura’s thighs resting on them, and summons all the decorum he can muster before he says, “What is it?”

He prays his words make it out from Allura’s skirt.

Someone behind him clears their throat. “Your majesties.”

That deep voice is unmistakable. Lotor wonders if for better or for worse that the head of the Blade of Marmora has been the one to track them down. At the very least he sounds as unfazed as ever.

“Excuse the intrusion.”

_Never._

“The meeting has started. We’re awaiting your presence.”

“Thank you.”

“When you’re finished here.”

“You’re dismissed.”

“Of course.”

Darkness envelopes them again. Lotor slowly lets Allura’s feet drop to the questionably sanitary floor. She straightens her skirt. He brushes off his knees and wipes his mouth.

The meeting is longer than it has any right to be, and Kolivan doesn’t say a word for the entirety of it. That’s probably for the best.

* * *

Thace looks up as Kolivan arrives back on central command and heads straight for his office. He raises a brow. “You look like you could use a drink, sir.”

Kolivan pauses at the comment, and in an uncharacteristic moment of defeat, lets his shoulders slump as he sighs. He rubs his temples. “I think I could, yes.”

“Is there…any news from the emperor?”

Kolivan just shakes his head and lets the door close behind him.

Thace glances over at Ulaz. “I don’t think that bodes well.”

* * *

5.

The good thing about the castle ship command deck is that the doors can be locked from the inside. Security protocol written straight into the central hub means they’re alone, with nothing but the stars and each other for company, and Allura wastes no time throwing Lotor against the center console and pushing up her skirts.

“If I have to wait-“ She tugs her underwear down her legs and tosses them to the side. “-one more tick-“ She straddles him, grinding against the bulge between his legs with a sigh as he fumbles to free himself. “-to get you inside of me, I swear to the ancients I’m going to go mad.”

He sighs as he draws his erection out, and she lifts her hips to let him guide it to her entrance before sinking down. Void preserve her, the stretch and fullness of it is so perfect she could _cry._

His hands find her backside and squeeze as she starts to rock her hips, riding him against the console, planting her palms against the edge of it and throwing her head back in ecstasy. It’s perfect. _Perfect._ So incredible it almost makes everything else worth it.

He growls against her neck, tangles her hair between his fingers, holding onto her like she’s the last thing keeping him sane. His claws dig into the fabric of her dress, but she doesn’t care. He could rip it to shreds, tear it off of her and leave her naked and as the day she was born and she _still_ wouldn’t care. All that matters is the feeling of his ridges dragging along her inner walls, his knot pushing and tugging at her entrance with very stroke. Every breath burns, her legs ache from their constant knocking against the console, and it’s glorious-

And then, suddenly, she looks down and sees Lotor’s eyes. Wide with horror instead of glazed over and half-lidded with bone-deep pleasure. He doesn’t even look like he’s breathing. And there’s something else there too – reflecting in his irises, the unmistakable blue glow of a holo-image.

“Allura?”

That  _voice._

Stars, no.

She looks down and sees her own hand – her own traitorous hand – pressing against the biometric scanner. The one meant only for her. It’s glowing blue under her touch.

Lotor looks like he’s seen a ghost, and it’s clear why. Even as a holographic memory projected from pre-programed AI, her father can be an intimidating man on the best of days.

And today is _not_ the best of days. Far from it.

Allura weighs the pros and cons of keying in the self-destruct codes without even climbing off of Lotor first.

“Allura,” Lotor says, voice raspy and terrified. “Can you…deactivate the hologram please?”

She nods, numbly, and with a swipe of her hand the blue glow fades as quickly as Lotor’s erection.

Their legs shake for all the wrong reasons as she make their way off the command deck.

* * *

Zarkon looks up from the bed as Honerva emerges from the shower. She sits down at her vanity and unwraps the towel from around her head to start brushing her hair while steam is still rising from her skin. He catches her eye in the mirror, and she smiles.

“Are you still worried about what happened in the lab?” she asks.

She knows him too well, and he groans. He’s been trying to push away this feeling welling up in his chest, but every time the memory returns full-force and he’s mortified all over again.

“I never needed to see that, Nerva,” he sighs.

“It’s perfectly natural-“

“That’s not the problem. You _know_ that’s not the problem.”

Quietly, she puts down her brush, stands, and makes her way over to the bed to sit beside him. “Love,” she says, “What happened, happened. We just need to move on.” She presses her palm, gentle and soft, against his cheek. Her thumb catches the edge of his scales. “You remember how we were at that age, too.”

He manages a sigh and covers her hand with his own. “I do…”

“You remember the library?”

He chuckles. “The juniberry fields?”

“The cockpit of the black lion?” As she leans in, the towel loosens from around her chest and falls away. She tosses it to the floor. “I remember that night quite fondly.”

“As do I.”

She kisses him, and kisses him, and kisses him, and somewhere in the midst of all the kisses he finds himself thoroughly distracted.

* * *

6.

The cockpit of the black lion is surprisingly spacious, even for two. It’s a welcome discovery, and Allura is happy to ruminate on its many _other_ benefits another time. For now, she has one in mind. A singular purpose that she’s supremely _deliciously_ focused on.

There are no doors, no footsteps wandering down the hall, no _holograms._ Just them, in the black lion, floating amongst the stars just barely within communication range.

“Bless you for coming up with this,” she gasps as he thrusts up into her at an angle that makes the stars bleed into one another. “And _damn you_ for not coming up with it sooner.”

He doesn’t bother with words – he growls against her neck, leaves a deep pink mark on her shoulder as he tugs the straps of her dress out of the way and then drops a kiss there for good measure. He holds her to him, rocking up into her, hands planted on her hips.

She meets his eye, finds nothing but wild pleasure raging there. She smiles. She laughs – with joy, relief, ecstasy. She laughs until it turns into a moan as she comes. The sound of it echoes off the console, and she throws her head back and lets her own voice mix with Lotor’s as he finally arches and groans and spills himself into her.

They ride the high for as long as they can, and they slump against each other in the seat, panting and spent. They catch their breath as sweat cools on their brows, and around them, the silence settles like a soft blanket.

“Finally I have you all to myself,” she sighs. Lotor presses a kiss to her temple as his entire body rumbles with a sated laugh.  

She smiles brightly and snuggles down against him. Just as she closes her eyes, there’s a rumble beneath their bodies, a soft purple glow surrounding them.

As it fades again, a flush spreads across Lotor’s cheeks. “Well…” he mutters. “ _Almost._ ”

All things considered, Allura muses, she thinks she can make do with that.


End file.
